


Diminuendo

by Aerine



Category: Subarashiki Kono Sekai | The World Ends With You
Genre: NO ONE asked for this but HERE YA GO, can be read as a prologue tbh, might make this into a series, please play this game for the love of god
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 12:34:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20796707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aerine/pseuds/Aerine
Summary: di·min·u·en·do/dəˌmin(y)əˈwendō/adverb(especially as a direction) with a decrease in loudness.“the piece ends as it began, a poem of sorrow and regret that dissolves diminuendo”





	Diminuendo

**Author's Note:**

> Perhaps I will make this into a series !! We'll see how my depression feels

Joshua was his name. Joshua. _Joshua_. Your fingertips tapped at the crease of your lips, pondering of this man beside you and his significance to you. With one hand in the pocket of his jeans, the other was entwined with yours, the glint in his silver irises evidence of his mischievous nature. None of his behavior was familiar to you, even the occasional lean of his body toward you upon your first meeting, yet with a wave of his hand he paid no heed to your dilemma. Surely, Joshua was someone whose presence refused to be forgotten. Surely, there lacked any reason for you to fail to recall his nature; someone like him was difficult to let go, that you were sure of.

With a jostle of your shoulder, you clicked your tongue at the cause and opened your mouth to spout colorful words at him, only to find that your attempts to inconvenience his day were futile. With his arms crossed, one hand grasping at his cellphone, a wide grin complemented the frown you intended on sighting. Your name was what unsettled you, falling from his lips like honey, and he began to close the distance with a greeting that tempted you ever so closer to him. “Hey!” A nickname. “Remember me?” A question with an undesirable answer. Following your perplexity, there rose the proposition he take you somewhere to assist you in jogging your memory: WildKat, the café the people of Shibuya had been raving about since the beginning of time.

“Remember this?” You shook your head, catching the foam of your latte soaking into your drink. The owner mimicked you with a smile, his hand deep into a dish rag as he cleaned the mugs of filth, something difficult to be noticed once the boy in front of you shrugged and faced you with a wistful grin. _No worries_, he said, _I don’t deserve to be remembered by you_. When he stood to depart from your form, apparently leaving the responsibility of paying for service onto you, the back of his button up shirt became reminiscent of a moment where the two of you stood in a place far from this, hands in his pocket as his existence in your life was fleeting. The picture was blurred out with your tears, but evident enough that you pinched at the bridge of your nose in hopes of learning more about what you meant to him. What it all meant to him.

You slapped however amounts of yen you had left on the table, your chair whining in protest as your gratitude was shown in your compliments to the chef. Behind you, the chef once again shook his head, a frown tugged upon his lips entirely complementary to the amusement exhibited at his old friend’s puppy love. Of course, how could you have noticed? The world and its rules were diminishing around your search for Joshua–Yoshiya, _Yoshiya_, how could you forget how effortless it was to call him Joshua instead? How could you fail to remember your missing puzzle piece, a dear friend whose attention was only on you? How could you allow him to push you away after he cherished your existence, regressing towards an isolation from fellow children and ignorant adults before you first approached him? Joshua, what reason did he have for never coming back–

** _BANG_ **

Your hands grasp at your forehead in the middle of Scramble Crossing, the mass of men walking past your form as if you no longer exist. In their eyes, you are the ghost teenagers shuddered upon, the memory your friends will eventually leave behind. With no one to help you, you are surrounded by monsters beyond your capacity, beyond your sanity, unable to recall of how you ended up here. Creeping towards you, their teeth glimmer in the sun, and no matter how much the thought of them sinking into your skin terrifies you, no one would know. You are no longer relevant, a loss that left more questions than answers, and God, you don’t want to die with that last thought.

“Hold my hand,” he tells you, your saving grace the form of a boy whose silver eyes are wide with the thought of losing you. “If you don’t, you’ll die.” _Don’t ever listen to strangers._

Joshua is his name. Joshua. _Joshua_.


End file.
